Battling dancers break boundaries

March 01, 2007|By Sid Smith, Tribune arts critic

Standing on the stage at the Lakeshore Theater, Kyle Terry promises the tiny gathering, in a loud, unwavering voice, "Everybody will know your name."

He repeats it several times, each pronouncement a mix of bravado and tongue-in-cheek. He's speaking to a group of young performers on hand for a rehearsal, seven of them dancers. But this will not be a rehearsal in the classic sense of an airtight script, precise cues or pre-established movements and actions.

The Chicago Dance Crash's latest venture, opening Friday and playing for two weekends at the Lakeshore in Lakeview, is dubbed "The 2007 KTF Championship: Battle for the Belt." The pro-wrestling echo is intentional. The program is neither conventional performance nor pure, unadulterated contest, but an amalgam of both, yoking together elements usually muted or non-existent at a dance concert: improvisation and competition.

Thus, the "American Idol" nation invades the home front. But closer scrutiny reveals that "KTF" is more after the peanut-gallery brio of local, late-night theater than the glitz of winner-take-all network TV.

"We want more than anything for the audience watching to be alive and active," says Terry, Dance Crash artistic director. "That doesn't happen that often in dance. There's this huge chasm between the performer and the audience, who sit there, politely, like they're supposed to do, and clap or nod approval or whatever. We're trying to find ways for people to reconnect, to get excited about dance."

To be sure, the built-in mantra of Dance Crash espouses this goal already. Launched by Mark Hackman and Marissa Moritz five years ago, when both were just 22, Dance Crash is a youthful troupe of eight performers who range in age from 19 to 27, including the 25-year-old Terry. Stylistically, the company's a melting pot, boasting expertise in ballet, modern dance, break dancing, capoeira, gymnastics and martial arts -- all fused and intermixed onstage.

A typical Dance Crash concert breaks boundaries and leans on athletics and fun. No wonder the troupe has an avid following, often selling out at the 150-seat Storefront Theatre.

But the "KTF" venture, moved to the larger, 300-seat Lakeshore, raises the bar on a couple of levels.

Each night, the show pits seven troupe dancers against each other in solos and various other combinations for four rounds.

Along the way, audience members vote and eliminate performers and eventually pick a nightly winner, who's bestowed a large, brassy "KTF" belt, as in "Keeper of the Floor," his or her proud possession until the next outing, four more rounds and, potentially, a new winner.

The Dance Crashers don't disavow the "American Idol"/"Dancing With the Stars" parallel.

"It's a coincidence, but a happy one," Terry puts it.

Furthermore, he adds, "Dancers are competitive, about their jobs, about getting their moment onstage. So it's funny we kind of pretend it's not there. But it is there. I myself started out break dancing, where battling is a huge thing."

And, unlike with TV, the actual being there is everything. "For the audience, it's not a matter of casting your votes by phone," Terry says. "It's about raising your hand."

The "KTF Championship" also reflects the troupe's genre-bending enthusiasm. Theater plays its role too.

"A lot of our shows require a certain amount of characterization," explains John Moran, the troupe's acting coach, who, with Terry, will serve as onstage co-emcee. "Dance is amazing in that it can reproduce images and feelings. But dancers can't use words. So, if telling a story or trying to produce three-dimensional characters, they need to rely on alternative tools. We're trying to take them to the next level."

Trying, in other words, to use movement to convey some of the nuances and expressions more typical of the stage actor.

In fact, there will be eight actors in the show in addition to the dancers, and the dancers themselves will boast cartoon, wrestlinglike nicknames, as if members of a cast of characters: Brian "the American Dream" Hare, "Auntie" Sarah Keating and Lani Johnson, a.k.a. "Career Killer."

The dancers are working privately on specialty tricks but aren't certain of what their colleagues will manage. Still, Terry argues that competition among friends is always much more interesting, a truth he learned from break dancing, which he first took to at 14. "Because I know you, I know what you're capable of, and I'm going to top it," he explains.

In any event, the "KTF Championship," potentially a hoot for the audience, is serious stuff for Dance Crash.

"It's equal parts dance and the machismo of wrestling," says co-founder Hackman. "But it's something we've wanted to do for a long time. We're serious about audiences getting to know our dancers, and not just let them blend into the company as a whole. We want them to be like rock stars."

Retired, at least for now, from performing himself, Hackman, 27, is producing director and keeper of the company's books. He's also keeper of the flame.

"The winner of the final night will retain the belt only until the next competition," he says.

"We plan to do this for years and years. Whether this time's a hit or not, you can expect a KTF 2017 and a KTF 2020."

There's another element. "There's always danger when somebody takes a risk, not censoring or making it soft just because it's dance," Terry says.

Asked if he worries the show might disintegrate into chaos, Terry replies, grinning broadly, "Always. Always."

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sismith@arts.com

"The 2007 KTF Championship: Battle for the Belt" plays March 9 and 10 at the Lakeshore Theater, 3175 N. Broadway. Tickets: $13 in advance, $18 at the door). Call 773-472-3492.